


Mabifica Week 2015 Drabbles (days 1-3)

by TheEruditeGrammacist



Series: Mabifica Week 2015 Drabbles [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Brief Mentions of Art Deities, F/F, First Time, Mabifica Week, Mabifica Week 2015, Reverse!Mabifica, Reverse!Pines, arts and crafts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEruditeGrammacist/pseuds/TheEruditeGrammacist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 1) AUs in General<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, an entire week to celebrate my OTP! What fun!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1) AUs in General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Medieval/Alchemy AU, and if anyone would like to see more of it, please let me know. I have several ideas for how to expand it, but if nobody wants to read it, I won't bother.

A masked, shadowy figure jumped agilely from one unstable, thatched rooftop to the next. Cackling slightly, it alighted on one roof in particular, this one not thatched like the others. Rather, it was a sturdy roof, made of sturdy cobblestone, clearly designed to withstand assault.

Green, birdlike mask glinting in the full moon’s light, the shadow reached into the pouch fastened to its waist and pulled out a small phial, the potion inside bubbling maliciously. The figure cast the phial down at the roof, here it shattered, its contents immediately getting to work, eating away at the solid stone roof. Once a sizable hole had been created, the shadow poured a second potion onto the first, halting its effects.

The masked figure, known to the world as Plague, the greatest alchemic mind in the kingdom of Gravity Falls, dropped through the hole and into the storehouse. Looking around and seeing no immediate threat, they snuck through the halls, occasionally peeking through doorways and hiding when guards approached.

Finally plague found what they were looking for.  Peeking through one door, the alchemist let out a small exclamation of joy and entered the room. Sitting on a table was a small bundle of brightly colored, rainbow hair.

“Unicorn hairs,” Plague breathed, eyes wide under the birdlike mask. They crept forward, hand outstretched, and gently lifted the bundle of hairs from its resting place. They were about to turn around when they felt a sharp blade nudge their back. Plague grinned.

“Halt,” the guard said. “Don’t move or I will impale you. Put that down and identify yourself at once.”

Plague giggled, a high, girlish sound of either joy or insanity, or possibly a little bit of both, and set the hairs back on the table. “Identify myself?” Plague said. “But surely you already know me?” They jumped onto the table, twirling around, and the guard gasped upon recognizing the mask.

“You-you’re that mad alchemist!” the guard said. “I’ll kill you myself!”

Plague giggled again. “Good luck with that, eee hee hee!” the alchemist cackled. The guard swung his sword, but Plague merely jumped onto a high shelf, then threw a potion at the guard. The guard deflected it easily with his shield.

“What was that supposed to do?” he laughed. “Looks like your chirp is bigger than your peck, bird-beak!”

“Hee hee, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” The guard looked at his shield. The phial’s contents were a green gel, which was quickly spreading across the guard’s shield and up his arm.

The guard yelped and tried to wipe the gel off, but it merely spread up his other arm upon contact. Within seconds, he was completely enveloped, and the gel solidified. Plague scooped the hairs back up and tucked them into the pouch, then drew another vial and threw it at a wall. The potion exploded violently, and Plague leapt through the hole and out into the night.

 

\-----

 

Pacifica Northwest sat in her family’s extravagant dining room, finishing her dinner as her father, the nobleman who governed their village, spoke urgently with a flustered guard. He was reporting a disturbance at the Royal Storehouse, which Pacifica took no heed of until the word “Plague” was mentioned. At the mention of the infamous alchemist, she listened intently.

“And you’re sure?” Preston was saying. “Plague took the hairs? Touched nothing else?”

“Positive, sir.” The guard replied. Pacifica noticed some pieces of green residue still flaked on his armor and skin.

“What would she want with some old horsehair?” Priscilla asked. Preston scoffed.

“She’s an _alchemist_ , dear." He said, and Pacifica could hear the disdain practically dripping from his voice. “Who knows what depraved thoughts run through the minds of such lunatics.” He waved off the guard, then turned to Pacifica.

“Go to your room, Pacifica, and remain there until this matter is dealt with. I’ll not have you getting exposed to the likes of _alchemy_.”

“Yes, father.” Pacifica said, then got up from the table. She bowed her head slightly to her father and left the room. As soon as she was out of her father’s view, a wicked smirk stretched across her face.

 

\-----

 

Once safely in her room, Pacifica lit a single candle and set it on her desk. She sprinkled a fine powder on it, and it flared up for a moment before settling to a steady green flame. She sat down at her desk and waited.

She did not wait long. Wit in five minutes, a painting above her swung open, and Plague herself jumped through. Pacifica smiled at her.

“Well, well.” Pacifica said, as Plague lowered her hood and removed her mask. Bushy brown hair, now freed, fell down to around her waist, and the grinning face of Mabel Pines stared back at her. “It seems that the mighty alchemist Plague has struck again. And I saw that she used the new potion I made for her. Tell me, how did the Solidifying Solution work out for you?”

Mabel giggled. “Fantastically. Couldn’t have gone better. That guard was practically a statue when I left him.” She waltzed over to Pacifica, sitting down on the desk and swinging her legs over. “You know, so many people talk about Plague’s masterful alchemy. If they only knew that half of potions she concocts are really the work of her beautiful, genius girlfriend.” Pacifica laughed and blushed softly. Mabel leapt off the desk and gave Pacifica a quick peck on the cheek. “But enough talking. I got the hairs, let’s go experiment.”

Pacifica stood up and reached into the bookshelf behind her, pulling on a trick book. The bookshelf slid open, revealing a staircase to the Potionarium, Northwest Manor’s secret basement and a place that Mabel liked to call “The Alchemist’s Haven.” Mabel took her girlfriend’s hand, and grabbed the candle off of Pacifica’s desk, and they descended the steps together, the bookshelf sliding closed behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, in case anyone is unaware, Mabel's mask that I reference several times is a plague doctor's mask, which was an an actual thing that looked like a creepy bird mask. I encourage you to Google it if you haven't seen one, they're actually quite interesting-looking. But as I said before, leave a comment if you want a full Alchemist!Mabifica AU story.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2) Firsts

Mabel lay on her bed, flipping through one of her numerous photo albums. Pacifica sat beside her, bemusedly watching as Mabel pointed at various photos and describing the events surrounding them. Mabel was currently regaling her with the thrilling tale of rescuing Octavia the eight-legged cow from old Farmer Sprott, a story which Pacifica would honestly not have believed without the photographic documentation.

“So then we released her into the wild,” Mabel concluded, “And she shot a bird with her laser vision and ate it.”

“Anywhere but here, that story would be dismissed as a tall tale.” Dipper said from across the room. “And Photoshop.”

Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper. “Well, good thing it’s here, then, huh?” she turned back to Pacifica. “How ‘bout you, Paz? Do you have any cool photo albums?”

Pacifica bit her lip. “No,” she admitted, “My parents never let me do any artsy stuff. They always said that anything we really needed should be bought, not made. There’s servants to make stuff., I’ve never really seen the point of it.”

Mabel looked at her girlfriend with a look of pure incredulousness on her face. “No… no arts-and-crafts?” she asked, staring at Pacifica in shock.

“Ummm, no?”  Pacifica said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Mabel jumped up, standing defiantly on her bed. “It _is_ a big deal!” she exclaimed. “By the powers invested in me by the arts-and-crafts gods, I _shall_ make sure you no longer go craft-deprived!”

“Alright, I’m out,” Dipper said, shutting his journal and moving towards the door, “I’ve learned the hard way to never be in the same room as Mabel when she starts referencing the arts and crafts gods.

“Oh, come on.” Pacifica said to Dipper’s retreating back. “She can’t be that bad, can she?”

 

\-----

 

“You most definitely _can_ be that bad.” Pacifica grumbled two hours later. She had glitter in her hair, sequins coating her arms and hands, and yarn in more places than she was comfortable with. The only thing that had kept her from quitting altogether was the giant grin this brought to Mabel’s face.

“Oh, come _on_ , Paz! Admit it! You’re having fun.” Mabel giggled. Pacifica shot her a look.

“I will admit nothing of the sort. “Pacifica hissed. “I have been working for two hours and have yet to assemble a freaking bracelet.”

“You’ll get there, I promise.” Mabel said patiently. “Here,” she took Pacifica’s hands and gently guided her through the steps for what felt like the hundredth time. “Now you try.”

It took another thirty minutes of trial and error, but Pacifica finally created a rudimentary bracelet. When she was finished, Mabel squealed with joy.

“Oh my _gosh_ , Paz! You did it! You did it! Your very first craft project!”

“Yeah…” Pacifica said, staring at the little bracelet she had made. She heard Mabel, in the background, making various plans for what Pacifica’s “next big art project” would be, but as she gazed at the simple little bracelet, she felt a small blossom of pride.

Maybe making things for herself wasn’t so useless, after all.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3) Reverse!Mabifica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drastically late, yes, I know. But Mabifica week just so happened to fall on an exam week.
> 
> Lucky me.
> 
> The catch-up chapters will either be up later today or tomorrow, depending on how quickly I can write them. But I _am_ doing all of them.

“Thank you” Dipper was saying. “Thank you, Gravity Falls. You people are the real miracles.” The audience ate the over-used line right up, and Dipper smiled broadly, seemingly basking in the spotlight. Mabel stood beside her twin, outwardly keeping up a facade of performing, but her mind on something else entirely.

Specifically, something that was sitting in the back corner of the Tent, wearing colorful clothing a decade past its time and sitting next to a short, fat boy in a trucker hat.

Mabel tuned back into her performance as she heard Dipper say, “Goodnight, Gravity Falls!” The curtains swung closed around them, and Dipper immediately went from the extravagant, charismatic idol the town (thought they) knew and loved to the creepy, sadistic psychopath that Mabel was more familiar with.

“Thank God that’s over.” he hissed. “While it’s great that these performances get the public to eat out of our hands, it would be so much easier if we could just rule directly. I swear, if Stan hadn’t bungled up that election shot we gave him, I would just quit these stupid shows altogether.

“Well he did, so it looks like you’re stuck being an attention whore for the time being.” Mabel said coolly. Dipper glared at her, and she merely smirked and left the tent through the back entrance. Dipper hastened to follow.

“Where are you going?” he asked suspiciously. Mabel raised an eyebrow.

“Do I question where you go every time you disappear? No. Now do me the same favor and go torture a gnome or whatever you do in your spare time and leave me be.”

Dipper scowled and pulled out Journal 2. “You don’t question where I go because you already know. And the gnomes don’t have any more knowledge on Journal 1’s whereabouts than the manotaurs. Plus, they’re no fun to torture. They break too easily.”

“What breaks too easily?” a southern drawl came from behind them. Dipper cursed and shoved the Journal back into his jacket.

“Pines.” he said distastefully. “I thought I smelled the disgusting scent of that Shack. Tell me, are you still cooking up half-baked conspiracy theories about the death of Mayor Befufftlefumpter?”

“And y’all’s great-uncle’s immediate, though thankfully failed bid for candidacy?” Gideon asked spitefully. “Naw. Not unless Mayor Cutebiker also ends up mysteriously dying. I’m actually here about something else entirely. I’ve been researching for a while, and I’ve come to the conclusion that-…”

“GIDEON! WHERE’D YOU G-... Oh. Um, hi.” Pacifica Northwest came around the side of the tent, calling out for her cousin, but freezing when she saw who he was with. Dipper sneered.

“Looks like your knight in shining armor has arrived, Pines.” Dipper said. “Northwest, get him out of my sight before he says something he’ll immediately regret.” Pacifica grabbed Gideon’s hand and tried to tug him away.

“B-but, I wanted to-…” Gideon tried to say, but Pacifica dragged him off. Dipper ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Remind me why we haven’t killed him yet?” he whined to his sister.

Mabel smirked. “Two reasons. One, he’s too clever, he would have any information on you set up to be disclosed in the event of his death, and two, I simply don’t care enough to bother with helping you kill him. All of his information on conspiracies only applies to you. Worst thing that can happen is, you get jailed, I, suddenly partner-less, have to stop doing the show, and I retire comfortably on the money we already have from our ancestor ‘founding’ the town. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I said I had somewhere to be.”

And with that, she walked briskly away, leaving Dipper stewing in his own thoughts.

 

\-----

 

Periodically checking to make sure that she hadn’t been followed, Mabel walked through the forest to the designated meeting spot. Upon arrival, she gave a genuine smile, a rare sight for the Gleeful girl. Sitting in the clearing, waiting for her was Pacifica Northwest.

Upon seeing Mabel, Pacifica immediately jumped up and ran over to hug her. “Thank you for earlier.” She whispered into Mabel’s shoulder.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.” Mabel warned, reciprocating the hug. “Dipper can tell when I use my amulet near him, so when I get back he’s going to ask me what I was doing. Naturally, we both know that I can hardly tell him I was telepathically calling you to get your cousin before he could blab to Dipper about… whatever he wanted to say.”

“I know.” Pacifica said. “I’ll… I’ll try to keep him away from you guys.” Pacifica said, pulling back from the hug. She stared into her girlfriend’s eyes and said, “But still… thanks. For all you’ve been doing.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Mabel hummed in acknowledgement. She sat down against a tree, and Pacifica sat next to her, leaning her head on Mabel’s shoulder. Mabel put an arm around Pacifica and asked, “Out of curiosity, what _was_ he going to say?”

“We, um, heard a rumor through the squashvine that your brother is paying off the Valentinos to lie about the causes of death for several bodies, and completely hide several more.” Pacifica admitted. “Gideon collected what he thinks is solid evidence that your brother’s up to something.”

Mabel sighed. “When is my brother _not_ up to something? The Valentino thing is not totally true, by the way, but also not entirely wrong. He’s not bribing them, he’s blackmailing them. And what he’s doing is both futile and mostly harmless anyway, so long as Dipper doesn’t find out that there’s a third journal.” She gave Pacifica a significant look. “So it’s in everyone’s best interests that Gideon keeps that little conspiracy to himself.”

“Can we please not talk about this anymore?” Pacifica asked softly. “I don’t like what Gideon’s doing, it’s dangerous. Could we just not talk at all?”

Mabel smiled softly, and kissed the top of Pacifica’s head. “That sounds nice.” She said.

A pleasant silence fell between the two, interrupted by only the sounds of the forest. Both knew the risks of their relationship; if Gideon ever found out, there was no telling what kind of mind-control conspiracies he would come up with, and there would certainly be hell to pay if Dipper ever found out that his sister was dating a relative of the Pines. So their relationship was confined to the forest, a pace where there were no humans around to witness it, and any cryptids that saw them were either too fond of Pacifica or too afraid of Mabel to say anything to ruin it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who caught my terrible reference to my other Reverse!Pines story.


End file.
